Rock'a Bye
by RavenHeart101
Summary: A lot of things were scary. Running from your evil overlord brother for one. Running from the devil for another. Trying to keep your real identity from your parents and trying to save said evil overlord brother and stop the world from going into the apocalypse too early, again, is really just another day for Chris and Adam. Until it's not. Chris/Adam. AU.


Rock'a Bye

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or Supernatural.

Summary: A lot of things were scary. Running from your evil overlord brother for one. Running from the devil for another. Trying to keep your real identity from your parents and trying to save said evil overlord brother and stop the world from going into the apocalypse too early, again, is really just another day for Chris and Adam. Until it's not.

Warnings: Slash. Violence. I'm deviating from canon so, please, don't EXPECT canon.

**A: N** – Idk if this will get new chapters. I just know it seemed like a good plot idea. This starts between "Witchstock" and "Prince of Charmed" and, uh, let's say season 5 of Supernatural. Without them ever having met Adam.

* * *

It was light out when he came to. He wasn't used to it – waking up in the day time. Walking around outside with no fear of being attacked and torn apart – with no fear of demons and probes and someone finding out that he was on the "most wanted list" of Lord Wyatt Halliwell.

Scary how now Wyatt Halliwell was only a baby.

Scary how Adam was working alongside Chris Halliwell to save Wyatt's life. Odd how that worked. He rubbed at his eyes and glanced over at Chris with a small smile. The back room at P3 was small, the pull out bed barely holding the two of them, but they were used to smaller, colder, damper areas. He could count the number of times he had slept on an actual bed on his hand. He sighed and flopped back down, his hand linking their fingers together and bringing it up to his lips to kiss it gently. Chris hadn't been getting much sleep lately, though. Neither had Adam, if he really wanted to concentrate on that.

A phone rang from a box of beer bottles by his head. Blindly, Adam stretched his free hand up towards it, his heart aching when he caught sight of the name that flashed on the screen. _Singer_.

He pressed the answer button – still wasn't fully used to that. The phones come the next ten years were much more advanced – and held it up to his ear. "Hello?" He muttered, rubbing his eyes again.

"Got something for ya." Bobby's voice crackled through the phone, rough and younger than Adam remembered it being in the future. Before he died. Back when Dean would drop him off there every time something got serious – when he got left there by Dean and Uncle Sam when they were on the most wanted list. Ben was with him back then.

"What?" Adam adjusted himself, Chris snuffling and moving closer with the draft that came through the room.

"Some weird killin's goin' on close to ya." A ruffle of pages. "Just a warnin'. The boys are heading that way. Might stumble into your case."

Adam felt his breath stutter at the thought of running into Sam and Dean again. He still wasn't sure whether he would be thankful to see them again, or whether he'd want to run away. Maybe he'd want to pull a Chris and send them to Valhalla. Not that he'd be able to do that without magic. And Adam was as mortal as they could come. He just knew how to kick some ass.

"Text me the place." He sighed and fell back against his pillows, running a hand slowly through Chris' floppy brown locks. He would need to get it cut soon, it was starting to get a bit ridiculous. Not that Adam didn't understand why he was keeping it long. The longer it was the harder it was to see the resemblance to his mother and her sisters. Not to mention it covered up the birth mark on his neck rather wonderfully.

Bobby agreed and they hung up. Adam would never be used to the short conversations he was having with the older man – not anymore. Not after all the long ones they had had before Bobby died. Much like Chris was valiantly avoiding running into his grandfather anytime soon, Adam wished that he had been able to avoid going to Bobby for help. It brought up too many things to see the older men that the two of them would rather keep locked in some dark parts of themselves only to be acknowledged when one or both of them were raving drunk or dying. Neither of them planned on dying anytime soon, and neither of them were big fans of alcohol – though Chris was a bit more than Adam – so they figured that they were in the clear.

Adam sighed as loudly as he could manage without waking Chris and pushing himself out of the bed, performing a complicated maneuver that included handing Chris a pillow so that he could have his arm back. He kicked off the covers and slid on a pair of clean jeans, grabbing his black jacket as he went.

He didn't bother being subtle as he slipped a handful of potions into his pocket, sliding an athame into his boot and easing a gun between his jeans and his back, the cold metal sending goose bumps up his arms. But he was used to the feel and, if anything, it grounded him into reality. Softly, he reminded himself that he didn't need to bring them, that he didn't have to worry about running into Chris's kind of demons out where he was going, but he brought them along anyway, grabbing a vial of holy water out of their hiding spot behind the bar.

Better safe than sorry.

* * *

Chris wanted to throw the book at his mother.

Not exactly the best thought process but he wanted to do it. He was rather close to doing it, too. He glared at the door to the attic as she paced back and forth from Wyatt's playpen to the window and back again, all the while gabbing on the phone to Phoebe or Paige or Fireman whatever his name was. Chris wasn't sure. Chris was pretty sure he didn't give a damn.

It were times like these that he almost willed a random demon attack to happen, just so that he would have something to do.

And something to prove to his mother and aunts that they _were not safe_. Since they obviously didn't listen to clear cut _logic._ "Piper." He tried again, still unused to the feel of his mother's name on his tongue. "Can we please talk about this demon-"

She waved him off with her hand and Chris didn't even bother hiding his glower.

It was almost a pout, only Christopher Perry Halliwell did not pout since he was seventeen and he did not feel the need to start pouting now. In the back of his mind he wondered how Piper would respond to him calling her mom to get her attention.

She'd probably blow him up.

"Piper!" He stressed and she glared at him before walking out of the attic all together. Chris' face darkened and he clenched a fist tightly, his magic coiling in his stomach so tightly that he could feel it straining against the force. Slowly, he breathed out, uncoiling his magic with the release of his fist. He remembered when Wyatt had taught him that, though using it more of a technique to feel the power within himself. Not that Chris was nearly as powerful as Wyatt, but power was power in his brother's eyes. And Chris's power was indeed unique.

He swallowed hard and turned back to the book, avoiding looking at the baby that stood up and stared at him from his play pen. "What turned you?" He asked softly, flicking the pages with a practiced ease. The book was lighter in the past, newer, missing a lot of entries. It was unusual, but it was reality. Well reality now that Chris was in the past and in the past the sisters hadn't dealt with nearly as many demons as they had come the future and Chris wasn't going to think about that. It always gave him a headache to think of that stuff.

He'd leave that up to Adam.

Speaking of Adam.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell-phone, pressing the speed dial one and holding it up to his ear. Time to check in.

"Hey." He greeted, still flipping through the pages when he heard the click of someone answering a phone.

"Hola." Adam's familiar voice crackled through their bad connection. Chris fixed it with a flick of his hand. Somehow, simply hearing Adam's voice made him less tense. Chris felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips.

"How's the case?" He asked curiously, stopping to stare at the demon that smirked up at him.

"It seems pretty cut and dry. Definitely not demonic, though." Adam spoke slowly and Chris knew he had to be examining something much like Chris was at the moment.

His eyebrows frowned. "What makes you say that?"

Adam was silent for a moment. "The edge that cut the girl in half was serrated. Medical. But there's no blood."

"What are you thinking?"

"Vampire?" Adam sounded unsure. "Maybe? I don't know. I'll have to do some research."

Chris was silent himself. Vampires. Very serious. Very dangerous. He didn't like where this could go. _Adam can take care of himself_, Chris reminded himself. "If you need some help-"

"Listen I gotta go. I'll call you at like seven okay? If you need me s.o.s." Adam hung up faster than he had before, silently cursing himself for losing his concentration. How the two of them had managed to survive for so long was beyond him, especially when they kept getting distracted whenever they spoke to one another.

The shiny black car that Adam had seen in pictures when he was growing up rolled up onto the gravel, stopping just outside the yellow caution tape. It sparkled in the hot sun and Adam tried not to show how much it affected him on an emotional level to watch as Dean and Sam Winchester stepped out of the car, Sam and his tall lanky form who used to always complain about being stuffed in small cars, and Dean in his leather jacket and casual smirk. And then there was Adam, an odd mix of both of them and his own mother, standing half the height between them, lanky but with his father's dark blonde hair.

Adam frowned and wished, for a moment, that Ben was with him. But then remembered what Ben had done and wished for him no more. Instead he fiddled with the potion vial in his pocket and stayed kneeling down in front of the body. "FBI." Dean's deep, croaking voice said in greeting to the State Police Officers.

"_You're_ FBI?" The Officer's voice held clear disbelief, and he took their badges from them, examining them for details that were sure to be off. But he wouldn't find any.

Adam stood up and brushed off his knees, happy for his jacket even in the heat for covering up the obvious bulge of his gun pulling against his plain green t-shirt.

"Problem, officer?" Adam called over, his sunglasses blocking the sun from hurting his eyes too much. Sometimes he wished he was back to traveling during the night and staying out of the sunlight. He couldn't tell anyone the amount of time he had gotten a sunburn since he had arrived in the past. Chris, it seemed, had skin that never burned or tanned all that much, the sun's rays never harming his skin. Adam wasn't as lucky.

The Officer glanced at Adam with a frown. "Who called the feds in?"

"I did." Adam smiled disarmingly. "This looks like a serial that's been going on in towns surrounding yours," and it did, he wasn't lying about that. "I thought we could use their expertise to catch the guy." That, however, was a lie. Adam had been hoping to avoid his family as long as he could since he had come to the past. And he had managed well enough so far. Until whoever the hell controlled heaven decided it was time for him to see them again and kiss whatever relative peace he had created in the past to the hell hounds.

The brothers looked up at him in confusion. Or, rather, Sam looked confused, Dean looked mildly irritated.

They couldn't know he was one of them, could they?

"They with the Unit too?" The Officer finally asked.

Adam nodded kindly, "Yes, sir." And nodded at the Winchesters as they ducked under the table and walked over to him.

Adam watched them converse simply throw a raise of eyebrows and twitch of lips. He had seen Chris and Wyatt gesture to each other in quite the same way. Him and Ben had never mastered it. Something about siblings. "So who are you, kid?" Dean asked tearing his gaze away from Sam with a roll of his eyes.

Adam wondered, briefly, if he could use the same potion to enhance his lies on them like he had the officers that were guarding the scene. But then he decided that it was too risky – Dean and Sam were tricky and they were smart. There was no doubt in his mind that they'd figure that out and be out to kill him. "Bobby Singer called me." Adam walked forward, holding his hand out in greeting. "Told me you might be wandering through."

Sam smiled a bit, relaxing at the familiar name. Dean, however, did no such thing. "Sam Winchester."

"I know." Adam smirked in amusement. "Adam Perry." He wasn't surprised when Sam's bigger hand shook his own, slipping his sunglasses off rather than offering his hand to Dean. Dean wouldn't shake it until he was sure he could trust him. Adam slid the glasses into his coat pocket. "Any theories on this one, boys?"

He watched as Sam knelt down to examine the body, much like Adam had already done not too long ago. "So you know Bobby?" Dean finally said, distrust clear in his voice. Well, clear to Adam. Wouldn't have been clear to everyone.

"Sure do." Adam squinted in the sunlight. He should have kept the damn glasses on.

"You go hunting a lot?"

Adam shrugged. "It's not exactly my first rodeo." He reassured dryly, grabbing his phone from his pocket and bending down to take a picture of the woman's body, cut in half and placed oddly. He would need it for future reference.

Something caught his eye, though. Something on the girl's left hip bone and, with a frown, Adam leaned closer. Two inked on u's, resting one on top of the other, the one on the bottom upside down. There was an outline tracing them, inked on in a dark green. Adam felt his face flush, his heart pounding against his chest.

He quickly took a picture of the tattoo too, his fingers slowly reaching out to brush against the skin. He jumped back at the spark of electricity that flowed from it, Dean yelling out a warning a second too late.

Adam stumbled backwards, looking at the body with eyes wide in fear. "Shit." He whispered, scrambling to his feet and fishing his phone from his pocket. Without an explanation he turned his back on the Winchesters, stomping as far away from the body as he could get. "Shit, shit, shit."

He pressed the speed dial, thanking whoever was Up There when Chris answered on the second ring. "-Lo."

"Chris, we have a problem." He stomped away, ducking under the caution tape.

"What?" Chris's voice broke in and out. "-Dam? You're breaking up."

"They're here, Chris." He spoke urgently.

"Who's here?" Chris stressed, nervously, worried.

Adam hated worrying him.

"Lecentia Iuguolo."

"_What_?"

"The Freedom Killers." Adam hissed. "They followed us here."

* * *

**A:N** - Mhm... So... yeah... any takers? No? Okay.


End file.
